Chapter 3

The Grand Occasion

Wake up, Eric… a warm, motherly voice whispered in his ear. It's time to wake up. Eric. Wake up! It's time to go.

Dragged from a deep, comfortable sleep and still groggy, Eric was aware enough to remember where he was, and he opened his eyes with a start at the sound of the unexpected voice.

No one was there, and instead of a voice, there was the clang of a sonorous bell that reverberated through the room. Was he imagining things now?

Confused, Eric pushed himself upright very slowly, looking around his room for a few moments as if seeing it for the first time. Almost everything in it was red; red drapes by the window, scarlet sheets on the bed, everything but the smooth back and white checkerboard floor.

Lazily, Eric rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. The grogginess was leaving him and he was beginning to feel much more awake. He hadn't had a sleep like than in years! He felt fantastic… if a little bit hungry!

As he sat there, he noticed a neat pile of clothes sitting on the table at the end of his bed. Those hadn't been there last night, when he'd gone for a midnight bath! He wriggled forward under the sheet to pick them up and examine them. They were red as well; a red shirt, red socks and shoes and underwear. Even the pants that had initially looked black were really just very dark maroon, except for the shiny, silver belt buckle on the very dark maroon belt.

'Suppose I shouldn't be surprised,' he said out loud to the empty room.

With that, Eric rolled out of bed and washed, then pulled the new clothes on, surprised at the sophistication of the cut. Once dressed, he looked down at himself, slowly smoothing the fabrics down over his arms, and brushing half-imagined flecks of dust from the cuffs. The clothes fitted perfectly. He looked smart, from the starched collar all the way down to his bright, clean shoes. When was the last time he'd looked smart? He'd never looked smart in the Realm before!

Just as he was pondering that question, the bell sounded once more, a low booming noise that hung in the air for a few moments longer than seemed natural, then slowly decayed in volume.

Eric recognised it for what it was: it was a summons.

A vague sense of foreboding passed through him. This was an important party, people would be there; they would expect him to be charming and sophisticated and maybe even… friendly. He shuddered at the thought. That's what happened when his parents put on something like this. And he'd never been very good at that sort of thing. For all his bravado and self-importance, he had always felt out of his depth at the parties his parents threw. He'd found the constant need to smile tiring; he'd found the enforced small-talk dull, and he'd usually sulked in a corner until he could escape back up to his room. Was he just about to do the same thing here in the Realm?

The bell boomed out again and, once again, Eric hesitated.

But this wasn't like being back home, he reminded himself. There were no Mom and Dad there to constantly look down at him; there were no "Business Associates" and no "High-Flying Lawyers" or "Important People You Have To Be Nice To". There was no one around telling him to be on his best behaviour, on pain of having his allowance cut off. That was certainly a plus!

More importantly, his friends would be there. He would at least have someone to talk to, even if the rest of the guests were unbearable.

And, even more importantly, there would probably be food as well, and that thought helped his nerve much more than any other.

Eric steeled himself. Why was he being so negative? Drawing a deep breath, he opened the door to his room, and stepped out into the empty corridor.

Looking left then right, he wondered which was he was supposed to go. As if in answer to his thought, the bell sounded out once again, and Eric followed the sound, off to the right, round the corner and down a flight of wide, shallow steps to another hallway.

This time the floor wasn't red, but black and white checked, and his footsteps echoed around in an uncomfortably obvious way. But he still didn't see anyone else. He crossed the hall to yet another set of steps and at the bottom of those he could hear the noise of quiet talking and guessed he was getting near.

Eric walked on again, the noise growing loud and he became aware of the refreshing, pleasant smell of food. Finally, he rounded a corner. A short way in front of him was an arch, and beyond it he could see the outline of a great Hall, with a high, vaulted ceiling. At the archway, Enlil the Herald was standing waiting for him, still dressed in bright, shining white. In one hand he had his usual staff, but in the other was a strange, long, heavy-looking, metal pole with a glass orb stuck in the top and a thick, reinforced base at the bottom.

The Herald turned as Eric came forward, and greeted him with a low bow.

'Welcome to the Sentience Hall, Cavalier of the Realm,' said Enlil. Eric bowed back, feeling slightly embarrassed.

The Herald motioned him to go through the archway. With his heart suddenly thumping in anticipation, Eric moved towards the entrance, in full view of all the people that were gathered there.

He had only taken a short step when he stopped, his breath (and most of his confidence) taken away by what he saw before him. It was as if he were standing on the top of a cliff, looking down, and the Hall seemed to stretch on for miles in all directions. The walls were decorated in the manner of an open view over the Realm, the mountains and the valleys and the sky and the suns all in their perfect position. And milling around at the bottom were people, like giants striding over the Realm, all dressed in shades of red, sweeping through the lands like fire. There was another short flight of stairs in front of him, down to the Hall so he could join them.

Eric slowly looked around, his mouth slightly open, unable to move. Something inside him stirred, a feeling of magical power holding him still. He was not allowed to enter. Not yet.

From behind him, there were two sharp, resounding raps on the floor what echoed through the whole Hall. Everyone stopped and turned to look at him. Then Enlil's voice rang out.

'Eric Stephen Alexander Montgomery, the Cavalier of the Realm!'

The Hall went completely silent as his title was spoken. Eric stood there, looking down on the ocean of red-clad people who stared expectantly up at him. He couldn't move. Then a ripple of applause started in one corner and spread round the Hall slowly swelled in volume and resonating from the walls so it seemed that the whole Realm was welcoming him.

Eric tilted his head up in response, feeling the kind of pride and appreciation he had rarely felt before. The magical force that held him sank away like the ebb of a tide, and he walked down the steps, feeling everyone looking respectfully up at him.

When he reached the bottom step, he looked around. Now the Hall was different from before; like a vast cavern, huge and unexplored, and all the people were crushed together in tight-knit groups. The fleeting pride and confidence had vanished, and a long-forgotten discomfort returned. What was he supposed to do now? Mingle?

With a small frown, Eric paused at the bottom of the steps, looking left then right. Now he was here, he felt lost in the crowd, and it felt like all the other people were watching him behind his back, waiting for him to do something dumb. He had to do something. He had to at least show that he knew what he was doing, even if he didn't.

Breathing in, the smell of warm, delicious food gave him an idea. The best thing to do was to go and find himself some dinner. Then at least, he might be able to find his friends, and he wouldn't look so out of place.

So Eric made his way forward, following the smell of cooking meats and giving any people who glanced in his direction a bland smile. He had gone no more than about twenty feet when there was a touch on his shoulder.

'Cavalier!' said a deep voice behind him. 'My greetings!'

Eric turned to see an old man standing just behind him, dressed neatly in red as well. The man who had spoken obviously recognised Eric, but the Cavalier couldn't quite place him at first. He had a lined, craggy face, a stern air like a teacher and lock of silver hair, just off centre. Where had they met? Eric frowned in consternation. It was a city…it was…Amoran!

Suddenly, Eric smiled and shook his hand, bracing himself for the crushing grip.

'Hi, Shiran,' he said. The old Tronager from Amoran smiled back, his black eyes glinting. They looked at each other for a number of seconds, the pain in Eric's hand growing. Then Shiran released his grip and Eric gave a stifled gasp of relief.

'It seems I must congratulate you on behalf of the City of Amoran,' Shiran said, arching his eyebrows in a conspiratorial manner. 'I didn't think you had it in you, young man.'

Eric blushed, uncomfortable with the praise.

'Yeah, well, actually, ya know, it was more Bobby and…'

Shiran gave a dry laugh.

'Well, well, well. I had never thought modesty was one of your traits, young Cavalier,' he said with a wide, predatory smile that made Eric long for the safety of his Shield. '"All suffered to save the City." Wasn't that what Dungeonmaster said?'

Eric's gaze slid to the ground and for once couldn't think of anything appropriate to say. More than that, he had no desire to think about that, tonight of all nights. They were silent, and when Eric looked back up, Shiran had an unexpectedly understanding look on his face.

'And also I think you have, perhaps, discovered my secret,' said Shiran with a wary smile. Eric didn't have the courage to deny it so he nodded. The man was really a morphed Steel Dragon, and one of the things Eric had learned quickly in the Realm was that you don't want to upset a Dragon unless you really, really have to.

'I suggest you keep it to yourself, Cavalier.' Again, Eric nodded. 'However, I owe you thanks, for you help against the Drow.'

Eric looked blank for a few seconds, then suddenly realised what Shiran meant. There had been a Steel Dragon trapped by the Cult.

'That? That was you?' he asked in surprise.

Shiran nodded slowly. He didn't look pleased at the memory and Eric took a tiny step backwards, away from the glowering man.

'I owe you a favour, Cavalier,' Shiran said. 'Sometime…'

With that, the old man bowed slightly and moved away, leaving Eric to stare after him in surprise. He guessed this was what it was going to happen a lot this evening, people from all over the Realm were here, after all! It was impossible to guess who he might run into next.

The conversation with the old Tronager had been unsettling, but the sense of being out of place that he'd had earlier had gone; these people treated him like an adult, for one thing. And he felt like he could relax.

For the first time he looked around at the other people wondering if there was anyone else he knew, apart from his friends. Close by were others that Eric didn't recognise, strange creatures he couldn't even name and elegant nobles dressed in fine robes.

As he looked around, there was a sharp rap from behind him, and Eric looked back towards the archway. All conversation stopped and again there was a profound silence. At the top of the steps was a tall woman dressed in a sweeping dress, coloured red of course, with short and spiky straw-coloured hair, a narrow face and a very strange shaped body that made her look more like a fish than a person. Eric stared.

Then Enlil said something, most likely a name but one that Eric couldn't ever hope to pronounce, then added: 'The Ruler of Aquara, High Priestess of Brighid. The Queen of the Selkies.'

There was more applause as the woman waddled unsteadily down the steps, and Eric joined in.

Around him, conversations started up again so Eric moved through the crowd, not seeing anyone else he recognised. But there were any number of curious creatures here; there seemed to be people and creatures here from every conceivable culture, except Orcs, Lizardmen and Bullywugs.

He saw a Centaur taking with a man in a thin gold crown. There were Dwarves, with their plaited beards and heavy belts of gold; and Gnomes and Halflings, and all sorts of humanoid creatures he didn't know the names of.

He walked on, smiling at the other people and always searching for a hint of a face he recognised. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he was sure he saw King Lawrence standing talking to someone else he recognised, maybe Queen Sulinara from Tardos Keep.

Eric turned and took half a step towards them, but abruptly he stopped. Firstly, they were deep in a very intense conversation and mostly likely they wouldn't want to be interrupted, but also he didn't exactly leave the Kingdom of Zinn in pleasant circumstances and he didn't want to have to go through all that again tonight either.

But even though he didn't speak to them, knowing that there were other people there he knew made him feel more at ease. Maybe this wasn't going to be so terrible after all! Maybe he could actually enjoy himself!

Once more, Eric continued to drift through the Hall, winding around the outside of conversations and smiling as nonchalantly as he could at anyone who made eye contact, but not stopping to talk.

There was another double rap on the floor, and Eric turned to see who it was just as Enlil's voice boomed out.

'Sheila Caitlin O'Brien, Thief of the Realm. Robert Niall O'Brien, Barbarian of the Realm.'

Eric looked up at the two siblings with an oddly proud grin as applause rose from the Hall. They were both dressed in red and though they looked happy enough, something didn't seem to be right. Eric watched them, sure that something was missing but unable for a moment to see what it was.

It suddenly struck him: Uni was nowhere to be seen.

Eric watched as together Sheila and Bobby walked down the steps, but within moments of reaching the bottom, they vanished into the sea of red-clad people. Maybe he would have gone back to try and find them, but after only a moment's hesitation, he couldn't be sure where they were. He could conceivably have spent all night looking for them. Besides, he knew Bobby well enough to know that he too would be heading straight for the food.

Eric kept moving. Every so often his random walk thought the Hall was interrupted by the loud, booming voice of the Herald announcing someone new. Most of the names Eric didn't recognise, and he had quickly grown used to politely clapping, regardless of who it was.

He had almost stopped listening properly, so intent was he on getting through the crowded room but then there was another more familiar name.

'Henry Grayson…' said the Herald. Eric almost didn't turn in time as it had been a very long time since he'd heard Hank called by is real name. '… Ranger of the Realm!'

Hank stood on the top step, dressed in the same way as Eric all in red. He looked around at the people with a nervous smile.

Eric saw Hank walk down the steps with a slightly bemused expression on his face, and there was more loud applause, not thunderous, but close enough. Eric frowned, feeling slightly jealous. He peered back at the steps for as long as he could before Hank vanished from his view, people moving forward to greet him. After a few moments of failing to catch sight of him again, Eric looked away.

Feeling a little ashamed of his jealousy, Eric continued on towards his goal of food, though he had no idea quite where he was supposed to be going. He could have asked someone, and he might have eventually been forced to do just that, but in the end there was no need.

Only a minute after Hank had arrived, someone called out to Eric.

'Hey! Cavalier!' said a voice to one side. This time, Eric turned to grin at the boy who'd spoken. The odd accent had told him immediately who it was: Paul, the Rogue a member of the other group of Young Ones that they had met only a few months before.

As he turned, a warm shiver of anticipation passed through him. If Paul was here, then maybe… Eric frowned, suddenly unsure about the implications of the rest of that sentence. Was seeing her again going to be good, or going to be bad?

What if she was there already, watching him!

But much to Eric's relief, there was only one other boy with the Rogue. Paul was sitting on a chair against the wall, not dressed in his usual outfit, but in smart red clothes and was munching on something that looked like an oversized shrimp canapé. Beside him, Jamie the Mystic was sitting eating as well, looking odd out of his Mystic robes.

Both boys gave the Cavalier a welcoming grin and Eric saw that they had a small mountain of sumptuous food on a number of plates on the table between them. He licked his lips.

'So old Dee-Em sent you lot here too?' said Paul. He followed Eric's gaze to the plate, and his grin grew more mischievous. 'Pull up a seat and have some food!'

There was no need to be asked twice, so Eric did, feeling relieved to have found people that he knew and could talk to.

The food smelled wonderful and tasted even better, and even though Eric had no idea what it was or where it had come from, that didn't seem to matter at the moment.

He helped himself to a shrimpy-pancake thing that was smothered in a succulent sauce that he demolished in just three bites.

'Well,' he said, grinning, 'you keep welcoming people like this, and we'll be out of food in no time!'

'There's plenty more, relax Eric,' said Paul.

Eric helped himself to another one.

'Don't you guys want some more,' he asked, feeling slightly greedy.

'We've been here for about an hour,' said Jamie, patting his stomach. 'We're fine!'

Eric grinned and helped himself to more pancakes.

'Whatya been doin',' he asked through a mouthful of food.

'You know, the same old thing,' said Paul with a dismissive flick of his hand. 'Fighting monsters, escaping from castles, fighting more monsters, struggling to survive. Not going home. And you?'

'Th'same,' slurred Eric.

'No change there, then,' said Paul, the faintest hint of bitterness in his voice. Eric gulped down the half-chewed mouthful of food.

'Least we got to go to a party,' he said quickly. 'Beats nuts and berries any day!'

At that, Paul smiled and the air of discomfort evaporated.

As Eric continued to eat, Paul and Jamie chatted away about nothing much; they swapped a few adventure stories and Eric made no attempt to change the topic or leave their company. There was no need to find more food and both the boys were happy enough to let him eat while they spoke and every so often they paused as another person arrived at the Hall.

Eric wanted to ask about the others in the group, and where they were, but he didn't; feeling the colour rising his face as he thought about her and what had happened.

She would be here somewhere. What was he gonna say to her? How should he act? He hadn't thought about her that much since they'd parted, not every day or anything stupid like that. He had kinda hoped in a way that they'd run into each other again, but it had been a pipe dream, a fantasy he had mulled over during the numerous long, boring walks. And occasionally at night. And occasionally in the morning, as well. Ok, so maybe he had thought about her a bit, but definitely not all the time. No. Not all the time.

'Hey, ol' Cavalier? You listening?'

'Uh…?'

'Why do you have such a goofy look on your face?'

That question stopped him, canapé half way up to his mouth. What was he gonna say?

'W-w-well…'

Eric was saved from having to answer by another rap on the floor, and Eric looked round. The breath caught in the back of his throat at the sight of such a beautiful, elegant woman standing proudly at the top of the steps.

'The Child of Light,' boomed Enlil. There was sudden, acute silence as everyone looked up at the archway, and even from so far away, Eric knew her well enough to know that Diana would be incredibly uncomfortable at that title. 'Diana Curry, the Acrobat of the Realm!'

The room erupted in joyous, thunderous applause, and Eric joined in with more enthusiasm than before. Diana walked quickly down the steps and disappeared from Eric's sight amid a throng of people.

He looked back at his two companions, seeing them exchange a glance.

'What?' he asked.

'Um…' said Paul. 'I didn't think she liked that name.'

'She doesn't,' said Eric shaking his head slowly. 'I sometimes think if you said it to her face she'd hit you!'

There was a pause, and again Paul and Jamie looked at each other.

'That Herald could get away with it!' said Paul lightly. 'Can't imagine Diana decking him!'

Eric grinned at the mental image. Only a few moments later, there was another rap on the floor. This time, when Eric looked up, his stomach dropped about a foot with nervousness.

'Gail Beryl McColl, the Harlequin of the Realm.'

The Harlequin was standing on the second top stair, wearing a long, crimson evening dress, low cut at the front and tight around her hips. Her short, black hair was neatly smoothed down. Eric felt his heart skip slightly, the nervousness combining with a strange, light-headed feeling that he couldn't explain.
But the mood was completely ruined by the ungainly sniggers from beside him.

'Beryl!' giggled Jamie. 'Beryl! No wonder she wouldn't tell us her middle name!'

Paul was laughing too much to reply. Eric scowled at them, not seeing quite why that was so amusing and when he looked back to the steps, she was gone, just like the others.

Eric waited for a few moments, hoping to restart a different conversation, but there were more people arriving. For the next few minutes, any attempt at conversation stopped, Enlil's Staff rapped on the floor with great regularity, but Eric didn't recognise any more of the people.

Finally, there was one he did know.

'Preston Arthur, the Magician of the Realm!'

Grinning, Eric looked round. Presto was far away, but he seemed to be smiling, and taking the whole experience in his stride, though he hated being called Preston in any circumstances! It struck Eric that Presto looked very odd not wearing the familiar Magician robes, but in trousers and a shirt. He could just imagine Presto's face if he said something.

That thought lingered. He'd spent enough time eating and chatting. It was time to go and find the others. He stood up, taking a last small canapé to keep him going.

'Look guys,' he said to Paul and Jamie, 'thanks for the food, but I've gotta go!'

'Sure, Eric,' said Paul, standing up as well. 'Suppose we should too. We'll see you around.'

With a small wave, Eric moved away, pushing eagerly forward through the crowd of people. It was even more difficult to move now but he kept on going, anxious to meet up with the others again. More than anything else at that moment, he felt that his place was with them, wherever they were.

Though he was not certain where they were, Eric kept on going, making his way past small groups of chattering creatures and humans. How was he ever going to find them?

Ahead, he caught sight of a flash of blonde hair, and his hopes rose. That could be Hank!

At that moment, the Herald struck the floor three times and all the noise in the room petered out to a deep silence; Eric hardly dared to breathe, it was so unnaturally quiet. He came to a halt and, along with everyone else, turned to look at the archway.

Enlil was standing there as always, but in front of him on the top step, there was another man. The new man was much shorter than the Herald and hunched forward as if he was carrying a heavy burden. His long black hair hung down around his face, hiding his features, and he carried in his hand what looked like the branch of a tree, painted white. But most surprisingly of all, he wasn't dressed in red but in a painfully bright and obvious blue that shimmered as he moved.

There was an awe-filled anticipation in the Hall and for the first time since he himself had entered the Hall, Eric could feel a burst of magic swell though him, as if Sentience Hall itself rejoiced in seeing the other man.

After another moment of complete silence, Enlil spoke.

'Mumo'on the Great! The Prophet of Esagil, High Priest of Sentience Halls! The Right Hand of Fate! ALL HAIL!'